"Ok, I have that C-section at 2pm, but once that's done I can head home early if you wanted me to join you three for dinner. If not, that's fine too, I know you might need some girl time and I have lots of paperwork at the office I need to get through anyways, it's really no issue—"
"You're rambling, Jim," Jenna smiled at her fiancé as he grinned knowingly. He was nervous about Becky and Dawn visiting, Jenna could tell. Probably because of the giant rock on her left ring finger, which she hadn't told Becky and Dawn about yet. They'd been so busy training new waitresses at the diner and getting Becky all prepared for her wedding—which was in five weeks, and which Jenna was going to fly down for—that she hadn't wanted to throw such big news at them.
"I'm picking them up in an hour and we'll have the whole day together to get our catching up done—we'd love you to join us for dinner. I'll let you know if they have pitchforks ready, but I don't think they will after hearing the proposal story."
"Ok. If you're sure. I have to run now," Jim poured the rest of his latte into a travel thermos and screwed the top on. He kissed Lulu on the top of her head—she had begun to sit independently just a few weeks ago, and he had arrived home not much later with a brand new high chair that had now become Lulu's throne in the kitchen. Before picking up his briefcase, Jim whirled Jenna around from her position washing dishes at the sink and planted a fat kiss on her. She came away gasping for breath and giggling like a child—Jim never failed to make her feel like an overly romanced teenager. She loved it.
"Love you!" he called before heading out the door to the busy Philly street. Their townhouse was perfectly situated—in the historic section of town, but a few blocks away from the tourist madness. They were right on a beautiful green park, the school district was truly excellent, and they had somehow snagged a four bedroom place—they hadn't spoken about having more kids yet, but Jenna figured that the purchase of the house represented an unspoken promise between them that it would happen, somewhere down the line.
It was strange for her to think of that—of actually wanting kids. It felt so long ago when she had taken the pregnancy test in the diner, with Dawn and Becky by her side, holding her hands. She could still remember how her stomach sank when it came back positive, how she had hoped against hope for that to not be true.
Now, looking at her little girl, sitting in her high chair mashing the remains of some bright orange baby food around her face, Jenna wanted more. A lot more. At least two. She wanted Lulu to have a little sister or brother to play with, and she wanted warm family days and school projects and homework. She wanted Jim to have a whole nest of kids. She wanted to raise them and watch them grow and maybe go to college or become a doctor like their dad—just thinking about it made her heart swell with pride.
With the last mug washed and rinsed, Jenna dried her hands and plucked Lulu from her throne.
"Ok girly, wanna go see Aunty Dawn and Aunty Becky? Let's get you cleaned up first." She bounced her baby on her hip as she did some last minute tidying, squaring up the papers spread across the kitchen table—the adoption paperwork for Lulu. Yet another piece of news she'd have to give Dawn and Becky: Jim had started the paperwork last week. By the time they were married, Lulu would hopefully be his officially. Jenna hummed a little song as she put the papers in order for safe keeping.
The upstairs of the house was still sparsely furnished and mostly empty. One of the three upstairs bedrooms had become Lulu's nursery, painted bright yellow and catching morning sunlight. In another they had put a queen-sized bed for guests—that's where Dawn and Becky would be sleeping. The third bedroom had some extra boxes in it that Jim was finishing sorting through, but otherwise remained empty. Jenna's stomach fluttered looking at it—she knew it would become the next nursery, once she and Jim had time for that conversation. And had gotten their wedding over with.
Jenna stood in the baggage claim, peering over heads to try and see Becky's massive-bosom or Dawns' signature high-pony. Their flight had landed, and Jenna had found the correct baggage claim easily, but still no sight of them.
A tap on her shoulder spun Jenna around, and she did a double take.
"Dawn!' she shrieked. Dawn stood there in front of her, her stomach as round as a balloon, massively pregnant. Becky stood there beside her, grinning with pleasure at the surprise.
"Oh my god! How pregnant are you?! Why didn't you tell me?!" Jenna could hear the shrillness of her voice but couldn't help it.
"Maybe for the same reason you didn't tell us about this?" Becky's hand shot out and grabbed Jenna's left hand, holding up her massive engagement ring. Jenna blushed.
"Clearly, we have a lot of catch-up to do," Dawn leaned in and hugged Jenna. "Now will you help me get my bag? I feel like I'm hauling around enough luggage as it is." She put a hand on her lower back, bending back to try and alleviate the strain form her massive belly.
"You can get my bag too," Becky crowed. "I'll take Miss Lulu here right off your hands."
Jenna found herself hauling two very large suitcases through the airport, Dawn on one side and Becky on the other, holding Lulu.
"Dawn, are you ok to fly? You look about ready to pop. Why didn't you tell me when I left? And how were you not showing?" Jenna had so many questions she thought her head might burst.
"I'm fine to fly. I'm only 22 weeks along, believe it or not. I was showing a bit when we sent you off, but I could hide it pretty easily if I didn't wear anything tight. I didn't tell anybody—only Ogie and I knew. The doctor said I was at serious risk for a miscarriage because of how small I am and my family's history—we've always had hard pregnancies. The first trimester was a bit scary, not going to lie to you. It doesn't help that it's twins either—that's why I'm so huge."
"You're having twins?!" Jenna shrieked again.
"Yup!' Dawn rolled her eyes, rubbing her belly affectionately. "Little boys. Troublemakers, I can already tell."
"I am just so happy for you," Jenna said. She was grinning from ear to ear, and that special warm glow was in her tummy that only happened when it felt like her joy might overwhelm her.
"Now, don't you go putting off explaining this to us!" Dawn pointed at Jenna's hand. The engagement ring was obscene, a beautiful white-gold pattern with a massive diamond smacked on top. Jenna had tried multiple times to refuse it and ask for something smaller, but Jim wouldn't hear it.
"Well, Jim proposed. As you can probably tell." Jenna blushed.
"And clearly, you said yes," Becky replied sarcastically.
"I did, I did. Just wait 'til I tell you the story," Jenna sighed.
"Well why don't you just tell us now?" Becky asked.
"it's location dependent. I promise, it will be worth the wait."
"How many carats is this monstrosity?" Becky snatched at the ring again, unable to keep her hands off it.
"Too many, I said. But he won't have it. Says I deserve the bling. I just worry that I'll lose it, ya know? I never had one with Earl, so I never had to worry. Now with this. . ." Jenna peered at the ring on her hand clutching the steering wheel. She had had it fitted twice so it was snug on her finger. She found herself rubbing her thumb over it gently every few minutes, reassuring herself of its presence.
The drive back to the city was filled with life updates. Cal was training a new fleet of waitresses and making the diner a 24-hour place to hit the trucker population a little stronger. He had agreed to a little wedding ceremony in the diner for Becky, because she wanted a party to celebrate. They planned on saving money like nobody's business and then boarding a cruise ship and never getting off again.
Dawn and Ogie were checking out the schools back home with dismay, and Ogie had submitted a transfer request with his company and applied at the IRS—if those went through, they would look to head up to Pennsylvania. The schools were better, Ogie could make more in the same job category, and their kids could grow up alongside Jenna's. Not to mention, the historical richness of the area was a draw. Jenna knew they had been drooling over the picture she had sent back home, and those were just of her neighborhood—she hadn't had the courage to head out to a reenactment yet.
It was a joyful car-ride, filled with gossip and chatter and hope that this separation they were living through now was only temporary. When they pulled into the townhouse garage, Dawn and Becky's jaws dropped.
"How much was this place?" Becky asked, looking around as they walked in the door, checking out the home-gym downstairs—which right now contained nothing but extra boxes from the move and a Bow flex machine that Jim hadn't fully constructed yet, but swore up and down he was going to use religiously once he did.
"Jim won't tell me. He bought it and I've tried to pay rent but he refuses to take my money. He says the sooner we can blend our finances, the better. And he claims he would have bought it anyways, even if I wasn't in the picture. I've given up fighting him on it. He likes to spoil me," Jenna blushed with embarrassment, looking at her friends who came from so much less.
"It ain't a bad thing, getting spoiled like this," Becky replied as she headed up the stairs to the main floor. She wolf-whistled as she took in the kitchen, admiring the appliances and wood-work and wide open space, perfect for a family. Jenna saw it through her friend's eyes and had to admit, it was like a dream come true. Her own dream.
"Ok, I'm still waiting on this proposal story!" Becky prodded as Jenna helped them get their bags into the guest room.
"It's a little walk away. Are you good to walk, Dawn?"
"Am I ever! Just let me get my camera—Ogie will kill me if I don't send pictures." Dawn rifled through her bag until she had found what she needed, and then the trio set out, Lulu in a big stroller—this one purchased with Jenna's own money, a treat for herself and an investment in long walks and more children.
First, Jenna showed them the park behind her house. They had kind of seen it as they pulled into the garage at the basement level, but Jenna walked them through, opening the wrought iron gate to the park with an ancient looking key.
"They lock their parks up?" Becky asked skeptically.
"No," Jenna laughed, taking in her friends disbelieving look. "Some are private, like this one. You have to live in the neighborhood or belong to the historical society to have a key. It keeps it safe—there are plenty of parks in the area that are public, and we go to those too. This one just gets to act as our backyard, so I know Lulu has a safe place to play when she's older."
They meandered through the park—it had beautiful scenery, and Dawn snapped pictures left and right as they walked.
Eventually they arrived at the other side of the park and Jenna opened another gate, letting them out onto a busy street. Dawn squealed as she recognized landmarks and locations from the war, and Jenna and Becky could only indulge her as she photographed and grabbed tour brochures and texted Ogie frantically. Sometimes they forgot how zany their friend was, but this was a prime reminder.
"And here we are!" Jenna stopped in the sidewalk. Becky and Dawn looked around for a moment, slightly confused. Then they realized—right there in front of them was a beautiful red and white sign, reading in a curly script: Lulu's.
"Oh honey," Becky whispered, disbelieving.
"Here, come inside," Jenna unlocked the front door with a key. It wasn't quite finished yet, that was clear. The tile floor was beautiful, but little metal café tables hadn't been assembled yet, and the white shelves against the walls weren't completely built either. The big glass case still had Styrofoam wrapped around it, and boxes were scattered on the counter. The walls were already painted—a vivid cyan color, with white pinstripes. It felt like going back south, like being home.
"Jenna, is this what I think it is?" Becky asked incredulously. Dawn was walking around, sweeping her fingers over various items as though needing to touch them to believe they were real.
"It is. He surprised me with it—he had applied for the rental and showed me the space a few days after we got here."
"And that's when. . ." Becky prompted, trailing off.
"Yup. He got down on one knee in this empty concrete storefront and asked me to bake him pies until we both died, either of old age or diabetes, he said he didn't really care which."
"Well if that isn't the most romantic thing. . ." Becky blustered, looking around.
"Wow. This is just. . . wow."
"We're a few weeks out from opening. Still have to finish the business licensing and kitchen inspection and construction on the storefront. I found a manager—this young lady named Marion, a very smart gal who just finished a business internship in restaurant management. She has a degree and everything, and she said she has big plans for my pies—she had to taste one first, of course." Jenna laughed. "I'm going back to school as well. It's this spouses program at U Penn—I don't know if I've got the brain to graduate, but I'm going to take some business classes, so I can know what's going on with my own business."
"Why Jenna. Just look at yourself!" Becky eyed her friend up and down, taking in the woman in front of her. "I barely even recognize you now."
"I'm still me," Jenna murmured back, a sudden insecurity in her heart. Had she changed too much for her friends?
"No girl, you're better," Becky reassured. "You always were a cut above. You just needed somebody to show you that. I'm so glad that he has."
Jenna let out a gust of air—she had been unaware she had been holding her breath.
"Let me text Jim that. He's scared you two are going to hate him for snatching me away and marrying me off."
"Honey, I couldn't be prouder if I wanted to," Becky retorted.
"Good," Jenna pulled out her phone to text Jim. "But, I want you two to know—I haven't hired any cooks yet, and even after I do, you both will always have a job waiting for you here. You know that, right? Come bake pies—we're going to start doing farmer's markets too, and you can come and help with that. My heart is in this business, and you're in my heart, and you're a part of this, no matter what."
Dawn meandered over to the window, looking out across the street. The fenced courtyard there had a wonderful playground in it, and children were dashing across it, yelling and playing at midmorning recess.
"That's where Lulu will be going, once she's old enough and this place opens. Jim thought of that before renting this place. Said it was one of the biggest factors in his choice."
"Mine could go there too," Dawn whispered, her hand rested on her massive stomach.
"They could. It would be wonderful. You and Ogie can stay with us too, while you get your bearings here and find a place. We have two extra rooms at the moment, though I don't know how long that will be for," Jenna placed her hand on her stomach absent-mindedly as she spoke. Dawn caught the motion and looked at Jenna with wide eyes.
"Are you. . .?" she glanced at Jenna's stomach pointedly.
"Oh my! No, not right now," Jenna chuckled, dropping her hand. "Though, we're planning on it. We want to wait until we're a bit more settled, and Lulu's a bit older. We're thinking once she has her first birthday, we'll start trying. We want to get married first too—I ain't getting any younger!"
"Jenna, look at your life," Dawn whispered, turning and taking in the pie shop around them.
"I know," Jenna replied, pulling her friend into a hug at her side. "I know."
